


It's Understood

by HappyDagger



Series: Never Let Me Down Again [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyDagger/pseuds/HappyDagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ramsay has a drink with his old friend Luton, Theon gets a little jealous. </p><p>Ramsay tries to explain why its not the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy

 

“Get up, Reek.”

He rolled over and pulled the covers over his head, whining.

“Reek. Reek. Reek. REEK!”

“You promised!” Theon put his hand over his ear so Ramsay would stop poking it.

“It’s not me.”

“Ramsay! You said I could sleep in! You never sleep but, as a human being, I- stop!” Theon rolled away when Ramsay started poking his cheek over and over and kicked his feet out in frustration.

“It’s cute when you thrash like that. I wish I could stop him for you.” Pokes kept coming.

“Stop who?” He tore the sheets away. Ramsay’s erection poked his lips. Theon started laughing and pulled away as Ramsay climbed on him. “You’re such an asshole!”

“That’s not nice to say. Well, now I’m on his side.” Ramsay pinned Theon’s wrists to the mattress. “Now he wants to slap you around.”

“Shut up!” Theon laughed. “You’re ridiculous! Let me sleep in, Ramsay! You promised and I’m already mad at you!”

“You’re not allowed to be mad at me,” Ramsay said softly, squeezing his Reek’s thin wrists. “Now you’re in trouble. Good thing for you, you’re so fucking cute when you’re jealous.” Ramsay used his knees to push apart his Reek’s thighs.

“Stop it, Ramsay. Just let me be mad!”

“No.”

“But you _said_ -”

“Ramrod woke you up, not me. _You_ broke a rule that I just made up.”

“Ahh!” Theon bit back his grin. “You’re terrible and that’s a stupid name for your dick.”

“IT’S THE BEST NAME!” Ramsay shouted in his face. Ramsay gnawed on Reek’s neck as he squirmed and giggled. “You laughed, now you can’t be mad. I guess I’ll only spank you a little but you better make up with Ramrod first.” Ramsay lubed his cock liberally and his Reek surrendered. “You’re perfect. I don’t want anyone else.”

Theon groaned softly when Ramsay entered him. He was already locked on Ramsay with sleepy, carried away eyes. “What about Ramrod? Did _he_ make you drink with your ex?”

Ramsay smirked and thrust in sharply to make his Reek grunt and grab Ramsay’s back. “No. Luton’s not really my ‘ex’ anything. I tried to make him something he could never be. It didn’t take long before I gave up. Why would I try to make him you when you’re right here about to come for me?”

Theon rolled his eyes.

Ramsay slapped him hard enough to get his attention. “You don’t want to believe me because you’re scared to get hurt. If I fucked him, I’m the kind of _‘asshole’_ who would tell you and then expect you to get the fuck over it. But I _didn’t_ fuck him.”

Theon nodded. Tears welled in his eyes. “I am scared. You made me need you too much.”

“Good boy.” Ramsay stroked his narrow face where it was turning red. “ It’s not too much. I’m so happy you need me. I’m right here too, you fucking precious idiot. You’re _never_ getting rid of me. I’ll tell you about him.” Ramsay picked up his pace and bent to kiss his Reek. “After Ramrod has his say.”

“Please stop talking about your dick that way,” Theon grinned. His high cheeks were turning pink.

Ramsay grabbed Reek’s neck and held it firmly. His thumb traced the mouth hanging slightly open. “If you could see yourself and everyone else the way I do, you would never be jealous again.” Reek closed his aqua eyes and sucked Ramsay’s thumb, humming. Ramsay kept thinking _perfect_ and started whispering it as he too was carried away.

 ***

“What the fucking hell is there to _do_ here?” Ramsay tore into his cold grilled cheese and stabbed his plate over and over.

“Me,” Myranda suggested. She looked insulted. She always had some fucking problem.

“It’s been done,” Ramsay said smiling curtly. “You never want to try anything new.”

“Everything you want to try is degrading. I don’t want to be your whore.”

Ramsay snorted. “Too late, or didn’t you realize?”

Myranda dropped her spoon on her tray and left the table.

Ramsay smiled to himself and scanned the cafeteria. He saw a gorgeous boy with warm brown skin and cool blue-black hair rolling in sharp thick waves through a red bandana. He kept stirring his soup without eating anything. His pronounced high cheek bone rested on a loose fist.

 

“Hello.” Ramsay sat backwards on the seat beside him.

A pair of large deep, dark brown eyes rolled up to peer at Ramsay. “Hello…” he repeated hesitantly.

Ramsay grinned.


	2. Without Me

Ramsay ran down the hallway, shoving people out of his way. A junior staff member called his name but he couldn’t stop. He had to see if Luton really waited for him.

He stopped and grinned. Luton was there, staring at his feet, letting people bump into him.

Grabbing his wrist and pulling him along Ramsay told Luton he was a good boy.

 

Luton didn’t have any friends to keep away. No lovers to kill. Nowhere to go and nothing else to do but obey Ramsay.

Ramsay often found Luton laying on the painted concrete floor in his dark dorm listening to a low voice crying over a slow death march of a beat.

Luton didn’t ask what they were doing or why. He never objected or fought or ran.

Ramsay thought his tears were pretty. They were always there or coming or drying. He was so full of hurt and that was beautiful because Ramsay was mourning.

 

“Don’t you like it?”

Luton lowered his gaze and apologized. “I think it's the meds they have me on.”

“I don’t think they’re working, dear.”

“Greg doesn’t take my money anymore. Did you do that?”

“Yeah.” Ramsay licked his tears. It didn’t taste the same. “I don’t want _anyone_ to hurt you.”

“Ah!” Luton grimaced and twisted his head this way then that.

“Try to relax. I’ll wait. Tell me when it feels good.”

It never did. Ramsay wasn’t mad. It wasn’t his fault.

 

Luton was good at listening.

“You must miss him terribly.” He said, looking up at Ramsay from his lap.

“Yeah. It’s making me crazy.” Ramsay blinked a few times. “Sometimes… sometimes I think… I won’t get him back.”

“You will.”

Ramsay was surprised by such a strong positive statement from his little broken friend. “Yeah?”

“I think you’ll always get what you want. You’re that kind of person.”

Ramsay smiled and pet Luton’s hair. “Why don’t you switch meds if this shit isn’t working?

“What’s the point?”

“I know you stole my knife.”

Luton closed his eyes and covered his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

“I was only borrowing it.”

“I know. Go get it for me.”

Ramsay twirled his little switch blade and smiled. “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?”

“Just remember, it may not seem like it now, but I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t care about you.”

“Do what?” Luton still didn’t fight. He only wept and leaned into Ramsay’s hand as he pet him and called for help.

 

“Hey!”

Luton staggered back into the wall. “He-hey, Ramsay.” He looked so much more present and focused. His tragic poet’s face was colored by hints of expression.

“They gave you better meds?”

Luton nodded.

“And you’re taking them?”

“Yes! I am. I will.”

“Great!” Ramsay pulled him in to hug him. He snatched Luton’s wrist and ran a finger over the bandages. “That was such a nice thing I did for my friend, Luton. You understand now, don’t you?”

“I… yes, I do.”

“Great. And now you have a way to remember me and remember that I don’t want to go to your fucking funeral.” He squeezed Luton tight and laughed. “I don’t know what I would do to stop that! See you tonight, buddy.” He patted Luton’s face and left him.

 

Ramsay wiped the cum and tears off of Luton’s face.

“Do you have a ride home?”

“No.”

“Do you want to stay here?”

“Uh, no thanks, man.” Ramsay helped Luton back to his feet and fixed his hair. He cringed but didn’t fight. He never fought. He was a lovely, placid reflecting pool. “”You’re really transferring to Winterfell?”

“Yep. Will you miss me?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t lie.”

“Do you think you’ll find him there?”

Ramsay smiled. He gave Luton a manilla envelope. “Get out and answer your fucking phone when I call you."

“But I don’t…” Ramsay kept staring at the envelope, so Luton opened it. His eyes slowly worked back up to Ramsay’s face. “Ramsay… holy shit. I could never repay-”

“Now you have a ride.” Ramsay frowned at Myranda’s texts. “Get the fuck out of my dorm and answer your fucking phone when I call you. Don’t make me tell you a third time.”

Luton stood there while Ramsay dropped onto his bed then slowly back out of his room.


	3. No Good

 

Luton thanked his counselor for her time before shutting the door.

He told the next person in the lobby that she was ready and took his sunglasses out his pocket. He ran down the stone steps into the green lawn closed in on all sides by the institution holding him. The sun was already on its way to setting so he stopped to shove his sunglasses back in his pocket when an arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him back.

He choked, unable to make a sound and beat against the arm with his palm then pulled at it desperately. Ramsay spun him around against a wall. “Where. THE FUCK. Were. You.”

“I thought you were gone!” Luton sputtered and grabbed his throat coughing against the cold brick.

Ramsay pulled him out by his collar of his polo shirt and smacked his face hard. “YOU CAN’T FUCKING WAIT FOR ME TO LEAVE!”

“I just want you to be happy. I know you’re dying here.”

“You never say you’re sorry! You never beg for me!”

“I’m not yours, Ramsay,” Luton said with crushing honesty. “I’m your friend but I’m not yours.”

“Yeah? Meet me in my dorm at ten, bitch.” Ramsay shoved him into the grass.

“Where’s Myranda?”

Ramsay just disappeared without a response.

 

At 9:30 Ramsay got off the phone with Alyn and started messaging Damon. At 9:50 he started pacing.

Ramsay growled and threw his glass against the wall. His floormates knew not to report any sounds, smells, or sights from Bolton’s room.

“Damon. Just, just talk to me a minute. I’m leaving tomorrow. What if he hates me? What if he forgets me? What if it's not really him?”

“It has to be him! Theon fucking Greyjoy! I’ve known him for years. Everyone knows him.”

“What does he look like?” Ramsay pulled his left arm to his chest.

“Again? Ramsay… this is weird, man.”

“Tell me.”

“But I keep-”

“Damon.”

“He’s thin, he’s not tall but he’s on the tall side of average, maybe. He has some freckles, not a lot.”

“Uh huh.”

“He has really wavy light brown hair and green eyes that sometimes look a little blue.”

“Yeah.”

“Ramsay! Motherfucking christ, dude, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Damon!”

“You’re so gross."

"Just finish!"

"His eyes are real big and expressive. He always smiles. He has spaces in between his teeth."

"Uh huh."

"He’s always running somewhere or stumbling into something.”

“Ok thanks.” Ramsay hung up and threw the tissue in his garbage can. Damon kept messaging him to tell him what a sick fucking psycho he was.

It was 10:00. He sucked in air sharply and ran to his door, flinging it open. Luton was walking towards him with both hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Get the fuck in here,” Ramsay sneered.

 

“What?” Luton offered him a joint as soon as the door was locked. “Why're you so mad at me?”

“Because you don’t give a shit. 'Where’s Myranda?'! Fuck you. What is that, an accusation? What do you think I am?”

Luton traced the designs on Ramsay’s carpet with his finger. “Myranda said you were a psychopath. I just wondered…”

“What’s a psychopath, Luton?”

Luton swallowed taking the joint from Ramsay. He took a hit and held it before blowing the smoke above them. “Someone… without feelings.”

Ramsay swallowed and narrowed his eyes. “I have feelings. I have more feelings than anybody. You’ll never understand you depressed little shit! She read ALL our files, Luton. Dysthymic Disorder with Major Depression? You’ll _never_ be happy. You will _never_ feel what I do. _That’s_ why you don’t understand. You would be dead if it wasn’t for me. Fuck you, Luton.”

“You have,” he responded flatly. It wasn’t even a joke. Luton pulled his legs up to his chest and passed Ramsay the joint. “You’re right, though. You do have feelings. I’m sorry I hurt them, Ramsay.”

“It’s ok because I’m going to fuck you one more time before I go.” Ramsay took a deep drag and held it as he put the joint out. “When I call you, you better answer your god damned phone and sound fucking happy to do it.”

 

Luton didn’t answer the next time, though, or the time after. Ramsay didn’t leave a message. Then the calls and texts stopped and Ramsay never came back.

One night Luton got drunk and called Damon. “Is he… dead?”

“What? Ramsay?”

“Y-yeah. He-he’s not?”

“No. No, man. He’s better now, better than ever. You ok?”

“Yeah. Well… I mean… wha-what is doing?”

“He found his boy so that’s pretty much all he’s working on now.”

“Holy shit!” Luton laughed and after he hung up he cried himself to sleep.


	4. Understood

It finally happened the fourth time Luton told himself it wasn’t a big deal to go in. The fourth time he told himself he just wanted a drink and Ramsay had mentioned this shithole didn’t card, that’s all. He told himself he just wanted to see.

The guy actually sat right next to him at the bar whistling and flirting with the bartender who was old enough to be his mother. Maybe she looked that used from life too, as her son seemed to be burning out a little already.

“Hey! My frien’ got me out and never never did I think I could… that I would get out again... but she gamme a ride. I’m fucking _loa-ded_ , so lemme buy you drink ‘rrr what?”

He swirled around to stare at Luton.

“Me?” Luton hadn’t heard a word the guy had slurred. “Uh…”

“Want do you want?”

“Are you Theon?”

“That, yes,  is my name. Theon. Fucking. Greyjoy. That… it’s me. That’s me. GET IT? Greyjoy… loaded… right?” Theon started laughing silently, drifting to one side and slapped the bar. “What… you, you don’t get it… but I do. I do. What did you want?”

“Well…” Luton panicked somewhere under the numb buzz he was sloshing through. “You helped ruin my life.”

“Oh, great. Look, dude, dude, look, dude, just, just look, ok? I didnah know she haddah boyfrien’. Sorry, man. Ended soon, soon as she tol’ me.”

Luton furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Who?”

“You know! That… well... who arrrre you talk’n ‘bout?” Theon swiveled in his barstool chair to face Luton. A deep concern washed over his face and his round aqua eyes focused on Luton’s. He ran long fingers through waves of sandy hair and bit his lip.

Luton blinked then was kissing him.  

Theon yielded and let his lips be pried apart. He was also a disaster and Luton knew they were beautiful together. He grabbed Theon’s loud plaid shirt with both fists and Theon shoved him away. “What the fuck? I’m not… into that! Ok?”

“Ok.” Luton flushed and glanced around. “I… I’m sorry it was…” he got up to leave but Theon grinned.

“Shit.” He rubbed the back of his head and panted, holding the bar. “It’s not you. Sit down. Lemme buy you a uh… hey, don’t. It’s fine, I’m fine you’re jus' fine. Ok?” But Theon looked heartbroken and they shared a terrible, unspoken understanding.

“You… drinking to forget something… someone?” Luton said, inching closer to his seat.

“Yeah. You?”

“To remember. Like that song. Some things happened when I was blackout drunk and I keep trying to... I don’t know.”

“Shit. I don’ wanna ‘member this or much of anything but maybe, like, _threeee things_. You need some Captain Morgan, yeah?” Theon leaned over the bar to wave at the bartender. “It’s me, Prince Charming!”

Luton ran before he turned around.

He pulled over about halfway home to throw up. 

   


	5. Love Me

“I need you to do a job for me.”

“Me?” Luton thumbed through his textbook and stared again at the blank word document on his screen. “I don’t know… I have two essays and a research project...” Luton rubbed his mouth. He felt a sick kind of giddiness just hearing Ramsay’s voice. It wasn’t so bad being in his outer orbit. It didn’t even feel like falling.

“You have a car to drive, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I still have it.”

“You’re not too depressed or some shit, are you?”

“No,” he hurried to answer, “I’m not! I just-”

“Great. And your phone is still working so you’re all fucking set. I really need you to do this for me.”

Luton’s mouth opened but no sound came out to form an excuse. “Ok,” he said at last.

“Super. Skinner will come by your apartment and tell you to what to do. It’s easy and you’ll be well compensated.”

“My apartment?” Luton looked around and got up to peer out the window.

“He’ll be there soon. Just sit tight. Thanks, man.”

“Don’t you need my address? Ramsay? Ramsay?”

**CALL ENDED**

 

Skinner came by within the hour and gave him a folder with a list of coordinates, messages, times and phone numbers. “Text this to her at this time here,” Skinner said moving his finger across the columns, “and this to him at this time here. Get it?”

“Wow, that’s quite a trip.”

“Here’s money to cover that. See Ramsay when you’re done and he’ll give you the rest.”

Luton sucked his front teeth and cleared his throat. “That’s it?”

“The time here, with the X’s, that’s when you take out the battery and sim card. Throw the battery away here and bring the sim card to Ramsay.”

Luton nodded. “Ok.” Skinner gave him a small manilla envelope. “Holy shit. Are you sure?”

“It will cover gas and hotels, right? Only use this phone for these messages and always wear gloves when you do, until you’re putting it into Ramsay’s hands.” Skinner patted Luton on the shoulder. “Good to see you. Don’t worry, it really is that easy and then he’ll owe you one. That’s a nice place to be.”

Luton nodded again. “Cool. Thanks.” He couldn’t help but smile. He needed money so bad, he’d probably do much worse than… whatever this was. He studied the first message after Skinner left.

 

Message: Fuck you, traitor. You’re not my real brother neither is he. To: (Contact) Jon Time: 1:17 am Location Riverlands Super 8.

 

So this is how Ramsay plays some of his games.

 

It was strange being in a silent one person play when he didn’t know the characters or plot. The answers he got back were both confusing and heartbreaking but he never responded unless it was in his script. It wasn’t really his life and, remarkably, his seemed better by comparison. After his strange road trip ended Ramsay called Luton’s own phone and told him to come to a party at the estate.

 

The code was the same.  Ramsay had joked that it was the date he killed his brother so it was easy to remember. The gate whined and rumbled open. A uniformed man looked him and his car over as he passed. That was different.

 

He remembered the smell of  warm winter spices and leather, how cold and efficient the house seemed, how high the stone colored walls loomed. How empty it was, no matter how many people Ramsay stuffed inside of it.

 

“Holy shit! Luton!” Skinner rolled around on the couch and fell off. “Hey, Jane, this is Luton. Guys, HEY! It’s Luton! Ramsay will be soooooo happy! Ahh!” Skinner rolled on the carpet then spread his arms out. “This feels soooooo good. Where is Damon?”

In the morning, Luton woke up on the same couch he’d woken up on years ago. The night before didn’t feel like an answer, more like a confirmation. The smells and feelings, he remembered enough to know where the pain had come from.

 

Luton bravely approached the porch. “I was wondering if you’d ever join us!” Damon pet his head as he passed with a girl from last night following him. It was a gorgeous blue sky day outside and there was Ramsay, smiling like the sun at the center of everything. Theon was curled in his lap. He looked lost, weak and broken. Luton tossed Ramsay the phone.

"Battery?"

"I threw away at last hotel I called from. I did everything exactly as you said to."

"Good," Ramsay said flatly. He tapped his fingers on the table. "You really have to go right now? I haven't seen you in forever."

As he made his excuses Ramsay’s cold gaze pierced Luton. His fingers kept tapping the table, faster and faster. Theon suddenly jumped up and ran to the lawn, wretching. Ramsay glanced over his shoulder. "Let me help him, then I'll get you your money and take you to your car."

 

“So,” Ramsay wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled Luton closer, “you didn’t answer my calls.”

“I know.” Luton glanced at the deft fingers digging into his shoulder. “I answered this one.”

Ramsay shook his head and took a deep breath as he squeezed Luton a little too hard. “You still don’t apologize…”

 

At Luton’s car Ramsay gave him another envelope with even more money.

“Thank you.”

Ramsay grabbed Luton’s wrist and pulled his sleeve up to his elbow.

“Don’t-”

Ramsay traced the long raised silky white line, so beautiful against Luton’s warm dark skin. “How long do you think you’ll bear the mark I made?”

Luton shook his head. “I don’t know. Until I die.”

“That’s right. The rest of your fucking life. Keep answering your fucking phone.” Ramsay released him and left Luton in the crisp air alone.

 

“Where THE FUCK were you?” Ramsay growled shoving Reek into a tree.

“I was looking for you. I’m sorry.” Reek shook his head and rubbed Ramsay’s arm. His big puppy dog eyes plead for understanding. “Please forgive me.”

“I trusted you.”

“I know.”

“I let you out of the apartment.”

“I know. I’m sorry, please. I panicked. It’s been so long… I don’t know the campus and there was a rush of people… please, I’m sorry. I was looking for you. I didn’t go anywhere. I wouldn’t!”

Ramsay’s shoulders eased. Air came more easily to his lungs. “You couldn’t wait to get away,” he growled softly. He released Reek’s shirt and smoothed it.

“I couldn’t wait for you to find me.” Reek smiled bashfully. It was too stupid and wonderful to be a lie.

Ramsay squeezed his face with one hand and kissed him. “You little shit. You’re just getting me back because you’re still jealous.”

“I know Luton has a crush on you.” Reek relaxed. “It was, like, two minutes! I waited right here. Please.”

“EVERYONE HAS A CRUSH ON ME!” Ramsay shouted in his ear. A group of girls ahead of them turned around and giggled.

Reek pressed his lips together grinning. “I know.”

“Did you take notes for me?”

“You know I did. They’d be better if you didn’t distract me. You could get thrown out for that stuff!”

“Not with a new computer lab named after me!” Ramsay smacked Reek’s ass hard and grinned. “Don’t forget about THAT shit!”

“Right… right. That buys you, at least, a semester. Everything will say BOLTON before you graduate.”

“Starting with your ass next time you run away.” Ramsay grabbed Reek’s wrist and pulled him along.

“Why don’t you take any notes?”

“I DID!”

“You drew things I can’t unsee. That’s not notes on business law.”

“It’s called ‘art’, shithead. It’s a fucking metaphor.”

“For copyright registration?” Reek smirked and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“YES! The maggots represent patents-”

“Ok.”

“The blood is money, that should be obvious even to you.”

“I believe you.”

“The rusty hooks are lawyers.”

“This is why your father let me come with you.”

Ramsay stopped and grabbed his Reek’s face with both hands. “You’re with me because _you’re mine._ You’re mine and I’m yours.”

Reek smiled warmly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re perfect.” Ramsay kissed his pet and pulled him along by wrist until he had him safely locked away again.


End file.
